Born of Hatred & Heart
by KGal2000
Summary: A girl with hair dark as night. A girl with unbelievable power. A girl who is the daughter of love and death. Jodie finds out she was created when Voldemort killed Lily Evans that night and his soul and Lily's love for Harry mixed. Now, with her adoptive father dead, she must go find a place for herself... and it might involve Draco Malfoy. (Rating might change later on.)
1. Chapter 1

I never met my parents. Never spoke to them, at least. I saw my mother once, for a split second, as she fell before me with a flash of green light. Then there was the sound of a baby crying, and then a dark cloak collapsed in front of me and a man's screeching mixed with the wind.

Then I blacked out.

I grew up in an isolated tower with my father. He was not my real father of course; as he told me so at least once a month. But the the way he treated me he might as well have been. He cared for me as if I _was _his own, raised me from a child barely a day old.

It helped that he was a wizard, and I was a witch.

Six years. That's how old I was when he told me the name of my mother. It was the same as the pet name he had for me. Lily.

"My Lily," he had said back then, stroking my jet black hair. "Do you _really _wish to know your mother's name?"

"I do, Daddy," I said softly. My accent was light, for I was so young, but still there nonetheless. "Please tell me."

"If you insist. Her name was Lily, the lovliest name in the world to me."

"What about my name, Daddy?"

He sighed and began using a brush in my hair other than his fingers. "Your name is beautiful, my Lily, my sweet. But I loved your mother, you know that, don't you?"

"Did she love you back?"

He stopped, the brush only halfway through. "I thought so," he murmured.

"Then why did she marry my father?"

He removed the brush from my hair and put it back on the shelf. "Sweet," he whispered, "there are many things not even I know."

Then he left the room.

He never spoke of my real father. He even ignored me when I asked about him, which he never did. My life didn't change until I turned eleven.

We recieved an owl. This was not unusual, for we recieved loads of owls. But those owls were for my father. This one was for me.

The owl fluttered away after dropping a letter on the desk in my room. I eagerly had picked it up, and studied the front.

_**Hogwarts**_

_**School of Witchcraft and Wizardry**_

Father had told me of this school! He was a professor there, and ever since I was six he'd leave me at home during the school year to teach there. It was hard, only seeing him on Winter Vacation and over summer, but we got by.

Now I wouldn't be alone anymore.

I ran down stairs, grinning wildly. "Father! Father!" I panted when I reached him. "Hogwarts accepted me! I got in!"

My father's face turned stony. "You will not be attending the school."

My face fell. "But why?"

"No one must know you exist, my Lily," he said sternly.

"But why?" I repeated.

"You were never supposed to." He snatched the letter from my hand. "Upstairs. Now. I shall write a response to our ever so eager _Headmaster_."

The years went by, and I longed to attend the school. When I was fourteen, my father returned over summer and was more stressed than usual.

"What's wrong?" I had asked.

"Nothing."

"Come on, Dad!" I groaned, smiling slightly. "I can tell something's wrong."

He turned on me then. "My Lily, this is none of your business; it is mine alone."

"Why?" I pressed.

"Fine, you persistant girl. You Know Who is back, that's what."

You Know Who.

My father was wrong, though. I didn't know who.

When I was seventeen, I had heard there was a huge battle going on at Hogwarts between this You-Know-Who guy and the teachers there. When summer came, I eagerly waited on the porch for my father's return. He had told me he'd be retiring this year due to the previous headmaster's death and his challenge to pursue the role instead.

My black hair was frashly braided and I wore a lilac jumper over a dark green blouse. Father's favorite of my outfits, and I had planted fresh snapdragons on the porch for his return. They were father's favorite as well, especially the magic ones I got, the ones that blew sparks.

I waited, grinning, for ever so long. The day went on and on, and as it grew darker my grin faded. Where was my father? Was he alright?

When night fell I went back inside and closed the door. I went to sleep that night, full of worry.

The next morning I dressed in an emerald green skirt and pink button up blouse. I pulled my long hair up into a braid and apparated (father had taught me magicks at home, over summer) to the school.

Hogwarts.

The school was in ruin due to the battle that had raged two days previous. Nearly deserted besides a couple of ghosts, a cleaning service composed of goblins, and a single professor She wore a long, velvet, forest green cloak and a witch's hat. Her white hair was pulled up so tight her cheeks pinched up slightly.

"Oh! Dear!" She hustled up to me, worry in her eyes. "What are you doing here?! It is dangerous to be here unsupervised during repair!"

"Ma'am-"

"Professor McGonagall."

"Professor," I corrected. "Is there a professor... _Snape _at this school?" I said, carefully making sure I didn't day _father_.

"Oh, my dear, I am ever so sorry, put Professor Snape is no longer with us." There was sadness in her eyes.

"Oh, I know he was going to retire, but if you could just tell me his current location-"

"Dear, Professor Snape is dead."

The words hit me like a pound of bricks.

"Oh," I mumbled. "Oh. How?"

"It was You Know Who's doing." Professor Mcgonagall said.

"I don't know who," I respoded softly.

"Voldemort."

I dissaperated out of there as quickly as I could. I had never heard that name before, but the way the professor said it I could tell he was bad. Tears stinging my eyes, I found my father's room and searched under his bed for the Letter, a note he had told me to read if he ever left. I took out a red box and undid the black ribbon. Then I pulled out a note that read,

**_My Lily,_**

**_If you are reading this, I am gone. This note will tell you everything you wish to know. First of all, your mother. Her name was Lily Evans. I loved her, but in the end she opted for a man known as James Potter. They birthed a son, a boy named Harry. On his first birthday, and evil man known as Voldemort came in and killed James. Then he went to kill Harry, but Lily jumped in front of him and took the blast instead. Lily died instantly, as did Voldemort. Harry lived, and at Hogwarts I actually taught him. But what nobody knew is that when Voldemort's killing spell and Lily's love for Harry mixed, a different spell was cast. One that created another child. One that created you._**

**_I had heard the screams and rushed to Lily's aid on that night, but by the time I got there she and James were dead. I found you in a corner, knocked out. Then I saw Harry in his crib. Lily had only had one child, and I knew the other one didn't belong. You. So I took you and raised you._**

**_You, my Lily, were never supposed to exist. You wonder who your parents are? Lily Evans and Tom Marvalo Riddle, also known as Voldemort. But do not think badly about yourself because of this, for you are more like your mother than you are like your father._**

**_Live well, Jodie, my Lily, my sweet._**

**_Severus_**

**Please review! This is not my first fanfic, I have one for the Avengers (Shadows of the Past) and a crossover of seven things (including Harry Potter) called the Chaotic Collide of Alternate Universes! Please review, again, and read those. If you review those stories, tell me you heard about them on here and I'll give you a cookie!**


	2. Chapter 2

I stand at the end of the bridge, snow beginning to fall around me. I got through the frst two seasons alone alright, but now I realized I longed for... _people _of some sort. Just to be able to speak to someone. Fath- erm, Severus, had filled that void in my life.

Until he was killed, that is.

I found my way to a little town called Hogsmead, a mile or two away from Hogwarts. It was the school's annual class trip there, so I figured I'd blend in with the crowd.

I pulled the hood of my black cloak over my night dark hair and took a step foreward, careful as to not slip on the ice. I was clothed in my emerald green sweater tank top over a crisp white blouse tucked into a black skirt, under which I wore white tights and black shoes.

I made my way into a small tavern known as the Three Broomsticks and removed my snow-speckled hood, taking in the area around me. While many Hogwarts students crowd the tavern, some people out of the school are there as well. Including the one who approached me, a boy around my age with dark hair and green eyes behing round glasses.

"Hello," he says with a smile. "You remind me of someone, though I can't think of who."

"I don't see how I could, as I've never seen you before in my life," I announce, looking away. Then I curse myself for inheriting Severus's unsocial demeaner. "Er, what I mean is, I don't believe we've met. I'm Jodie... er, Evans. Jodie Evans." I then proceeded to shake his hand.

"Harry, Harry Potter." He shook back.

"Harry Potter," I murmur. Was that not the name Severus had told me my half-brother held?

"Yea, I know. The boy who lived." He made a face, like that wasn't a name he desired. "Tell me, Jodie, are you a Hogwarts student?"

"I-"

"Well, I assume you must be, for there are few others I know with the Slytherin Crest securing their cloak." Harry gestured to it. "What year are you?"

"Seventh," I lied, hoping to make this a believable cover. "I'm a seventh year."

He frowned slightly. "Oh. I didn't see you during the battles last year."

"I'm the type to be overlooked," I said quietly.

"Oh. Sorry. Hey, Jodie, would you like to sit with me and my friends?" He gestured to a table in the far corner where a redheaded boy and someone that looked like his sister and a girl with mossy brown hair.

"Eh... sure."

"Ron, Ginny, Hermione, this is Jodie." Harry said when we got to the table.

"Hullo," they said.

"Um, hi," I answered. Nervously I sat in between Ginny and Hermione. I certainly didn't expect to meet my half-brother on his outing, not to mention his friends.

Harry ordered something called a butterbeer for all of us, something I'd never had. When the waitress, a pretty blonde girl, set them on our table, I took mine but didn't sip it.

Ron frowned. "Don't you want to drink it?"

"I- I've never had-" I murmured.

"Oh, it's good. Try some," Hermione urged. I did. It tasted like caramel and marshmallows and it fizzed.

"There seem to be a lot less first and second years," Ginny said, looking around.

"Yeah, a lot of parents have pulled their kids out due to last year," Ron said.

"Oh, like Mum did for me?"

"Yeah, pretty much."

I blinked at them, confused. I didn't understand what they were talking about. I just hoped they didn't ask.

"Who's your favorite professor, Jodie?" Ron asked. "Personally, I hated all of them."

"Er..." I hesitated. "It _was _professor Snape," I said quietly.

They looked at me oddly.

"I'm a Slytherin." I explained.

They nodded. "Sorry," Harry muttered.

I stood, handing Harry a Galleon or two for the drink. "I'm going to go now," I whispered, letting my dark hair fall into my eyes.

"Jodie-" Ginny began.

I walked out of the restaurant.

***- Starfy, my awe-tastic linebreaker! :D**

I made my way to a little bench, brushed off the light layer of snow, and sat down. I didn't bother putting my hood up; besides, I liked the feel of the snow in my hair.

I pulled out my sketchbook, one that only held two pictures: a drawing of my mother, one I drew based on a photograph of Severus's, and one of me when I was younger: a smiling girl with shoulder-length black hair, sparkly green eyes, and wearing a green dress. I got this one from a photograph too. I smile faintly at the memory of that day: my sixth birthday, before my past startled being revealed to me.

I take out a pencil and begin to sketch another picture. I don't know what I'm frawing until I'm done: the street in front of me. I am coloring the image when someone sits next to me.

"Wow, you're good," they say.

I look up and my eyes meet those of Harry Potter.

I look back a my picture, my cheeks reddening faintly. Only Severus ever complimented my drawings, and it felt weird for somone else to do so.

"Thanks," I say softly.

"Jodie, were you really in the battle last year?"

The question takes me by surprise, and I drop my pencil. As Harry bends to pick it up for me, I ponder how I should answer. Should I lie again? Or should I tell him?

I curse myself for even considering telling him. Sure, he was my half brother, but that was all I really knew about him.

I nodded. "Why do you ask?"

He sighed. "I just thought I would have seen you around school before, is all. Just when you think you know all the Slytherins- and the strange thing is, you don't act like a Slytherin."

I huffed. "Stereotypes. Just because Salazar wasn't all that cool, doesn't mean all of us aren't."

He laughed. "Okay, okay." He looked back at my drawing. "Have you drawn anything else?"

I show him the picture of six-year-old me, skipping over the drawing of my mum.

Harry grins at sight of the picture. "But what's-" he tries to flip the page to see my mum.

I slam my sketchbook shut. "That's enough for now," I mutter.

He laughs again. "Okay, maybe you _are _a Slytherin."

I make a face.

He is silent for a brief moment before looking back at me. "Something about you seems familiar," he says, and I catch my breath. "Maybe I _have _heard about you before."

I let out my caught breath and nod. "I've heard about you," I whisper. "Harry Potter."

Slowly I go to lift up the page to show him the drawing of our mother.

"Harry!" Hermione runs out to see us. "Where have you been?! You just walked out!"

"I just wanted to make sure Jodie was alright," he countered.

She sighed. "Oh, Harry." Then her eyes widened. "Mr. and Mrs. Weasley say Ginny has to go home now. Their nervous, saying some of the Death Eaters could be looking to get revenge on _you_." She points at him.

Harry sighs. "I'll go see her off then," he says, smiling faintly. I guess he must like Ginny. He stands and heads inside.

Hermione throws me a glance before running in after him.

I sigh. Alone again.

I open up my sketchbook and begin a drawing, this time of me. My black hair in a single braid and I'm wearing a green velvet dress. My back is to the viewer, and I'm sitting on a grey ottoman, looking out a sunlit window. The room is all white.

I just finish coloring the last sunray when someone grabs my arm and starts pushing me forward. "Come on, Jodie!" Ron says. "The classes are leaving!"

"But I'm not a student." The words are out of my mouth before I can stop them.

Ron stops and stares at me. "What?"

Harry and Hermione are there, too, gaping.

Oops.


End file.
